


Seems of Reality

by Tassos



Category: Farscape, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Promptfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-26
Updated: 2008-05-26
Packaged: 2017-10-02 11:36:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tassos/pseuds/Tassos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Crichton and Cameron Mitchell. “All that we see or seem, is but a dream within a dream.” --Edgar Allen Poe</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seems of Reality

**Author's Note:**

> Written for kazbaby.

All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.

That’s what pops into Cam’s head when he sees his own face above him. His hand patting his cheek.

“Come on, Billy Bob, wake up. These nice people are going to you go but if I have to carry your fat ass, I’m leaving it.” His voice but the words aren’t right. Cam would never call himself Billy Bob.

He hears other sounds, other voices that aren’t human voices. The light is painful after so many days in the dark, and he’s pretty sure he hallucinated the giant purple Furbies, so he closes his eyes.

“Who are you?” he asks but it comes out more of an ‘errru,’ but his other self seems to get it.

“Your brother today, though why I keep doing this dren, I have no idea. I’d be better off letting them kill you.”

“Team?” This word comes out intact and Cam cracks his eyes open to watch it fall. His head hurts, kind of a lot, and he has the distinct impression that something went really wrong when he stepped out of the stargate. Alone.

“That’s right, I’m on your team.” But that’s not right, there’s only one Cam on Cam’s team and it’s him and his brain hurts just thinking. The other him is still talking so he lets go of the difficult thoughts and lets the words flow through him about pick up games and sand pits and the ugly bulldog over the fence and can’t Billy Bob just stand up already.

Right. Cam’s Billy Bob now.

* * *

Things make more sense the next time Cam wakes up. Mostly he’s in pain, but the light doesn’t hurt, and he’s no longer in that damn spherical little cage hanging thirty feet off the ground. His wrist are free and he’s in a little golden room with his other self sitting on one of two . . . seats he guesses with what may pass for controls. It’s a little unclear, but Cam doesn’t see bars so he counts it as a step up.

“Hi,” he says.

The other him is considering him thoughtfully, mouth hidden by a hand. He ripples his fingers in acknowledgment. He’s wearing black leather head to toe, pants, jacket gloves, looking more like a hit man for the Lucien Alliance than anyone Cam would want to be. His eyes are lighter the Cam. Or emptier. Or . . . something.

He raises his other fist, waiting, and Cam’s confused because he’s sitting on the floor and there are six feet between them. “One, two, three, shoot,” the other him says, bobbing his fist. Cam’s first reaction is to look for the gun – strapped to his other leg, so dark it blends into the fabric.

“I’d rather not.”

“Rock, paper, scissors.”

Cam stares, and after a good minute raises his own fist. He shoots paper. His other self shoots scissors.

“Who are you?”

“Lieutenant Colonel Cam Mitchell.” Cam frowns, not liking where this is going. “Who are you?”

“You can call me John.”

“So,” Cam says slowly, “we’re not the same person.”

“Guess not.”

Cam felt his gut clench uncomfortably. Other hims he could deal with. Had dealt with in fact, even ones trying to screw them over. This is new, and okay, kind of cool too, except for the fact that he is separated from his team and has no idea where he ended up. “Listen,” he says. “Thanks for the rescue. I appreciate it. But I need to get back to the stargate. My team will be looking for me.”

“That ring thing?”

“Yeah.”

“It makes wormholes.”

“Yeah. Connects two places through space and that wasn’t a question . . .”

For the first time, John’s expression changes. It’s a humorless smile, one with a lot of years behind it and Cam realizes something else. “We’re in space. You’re not taking me back.” He doesn’t need John’s nod to confirm it, but John does nod, says sorry, and then Cam is struggling to his feet, mostly stable. “Take me back,” he orders.

“It’s not safe down there.” John shakes his head. “They were going to kill you today.”

Standing up isn’t the best move for his head or his memory, but Cam has a recollection of lots of guns and lots of shouting, all directed at him. “They thought I was someone.”

John shrugs. “They weren’t too happy when I stepped in. I told them you were my brother.”

“And then you brought me here.” Cam crosses his arms clenching his jaw to keep a lid on his temper. “Am I you prisoner?”

“You’re stuck with me for the time being.” John’s eyes drift back to the view of the planet through the grill work at the front of the ship. It’s not much of a view but he seems to know what he’s doing.

“Unacceptable.”

“Did you mean to come out there?”

“What?”

“The city.” John nodded toward the planet where they’d just been. “Because apparently all the people who show up out of that ring stay. They never leave and no one comes from the same place twice. It’s all very Twilight Zone.”

“My team will find me.” They have to, and Cam refuses to believe any differently. They have to. He’ll go crazy if he has to stay here with his double.

“And if they don’t?”

“Then I’ll find a power source and dial myself back!”

John just looks at him, unreadable again and Cam hates that because it’s his face dammit even if it isn’t him in any meaningful way. He doesn’t even want to think about how that works. He wished Sam were here to explain it to him. He wishes Sam were here to get him out of this jam, period.

“Okay,” John finally says. “We’ll come back when it’s dark. What kind of power do you need?”

“A lot.”

“Well, you’re no help.” John turned his attention back to the controls, knocking Cam off his feet with reentry.

“We’re going back?” he asks, stumbling his way to the other seat.

“Different space port,” says John. “I’m already going to be late. My wife will kill me if I forget the groceries, too.”

Cam blinks, trying to wrap his head around married. “Oh. Right. Can’t have that.”

* * *

John wasn’t kidding when he said groceries. Their first stop on the planet is a wholesale food distributor where John haggles with a purple furred creature for three tons of what looks like tofu. Cam can’t follow the local lingo but John gets along fine in English. He trails behind as John leads him next to the open market and fresh vegetables.

It’s different than the remnants of Goa’uld empires that Cam has seen. The aliens are alien and he can’t understand anyone but John. It’s pretty cool. This is what he dreamed of, secretly, when he signed on to the Stargate Program. The allure of space and all its possibilities. The two of them seem to be the only non-purple people in the crowd and they’re all staring. Cam hides his discomfort with long practice but he twitches at each new stall they approach.

John doesn’t seem to notice at all. He asks about tube roots and flowers, sometimes bargaining, sometimes leaving right away, sometimes fingering what he doesn’t want to get so what he does want gets thrown in for free.

“So how long have you been out here?” Cam asks as they move on from produce to tangibles. John’s fingering a length of plain cloth, feeling its thickness.

“Six cycles,” he answers. “What do you think?”

“It’s nice,” Cam ventures. “For a new shirt?”

“Yeah,” says John but he doesn’t buy it and they move on. Cam’s a little impressed at John’s focus. Cam’s bored already; he never did have much patience for shopping, but John’s taking his time, poking through a basket booth and another with toys, and it’s only when an unfamiliar, and alien, voice comes from his belt that Cam realizes he’s stalling.

“Aeryn, hey. No, not done yet.” The voice, a woman’s maybe spoke again, but like the purple people, John had no trouble understanding her. “I got the food but I’m still looking for cloth. It’s kinda scarce down here and pretty expensive . . . The locals are furry . . . I ran into something unexpected in the last town. Can you run a scan for me? Check for variances?” Silences meets this pronouncement and John looks at Cam, then past him as his wife says something else. “I know.” Says John and his shoulders relax a bit.

“She’s going to kill you for this, isn’t she?” says Cam, earning a smile and, “You have no idea,” from John who turns restlessly without moving from their spot. Cam’s a bit startled to realize that he’s standing perpendicular to John, covering his six as automatic as breathing.

When John’s wife returns on the line, their conversation is short and to the point. She obviously finds something there because John tells her, “I’ll take care of it after dark . . . I promise I’ll call at the first sign of trouble . . . Yeah, okay, call me back at bedtime . . . Love you, too.”

“What are you taking care of?” is the first thing Cam asks. They resume walking. The easiness of John’s walk is gone now, tightened to a man watching his surroundings.

“Getting you back,” he says.

“Bullshit,” says Cam.

John half smiles. “That the only part you need to worry about.”

“And then what?” Cam’s tempted to put an arm out to stop him, but given the look John levels at him when he turns, he doesn’t. He guesses what John’s thinking. Knows it. “There’s no way to destroy the gate. If you try blowing it up the naquada will amplify the explosion and you’ll kill everyone on this continent. Hell, you could destroy this planet. You cannot seriously consider that.”

“Then tell me how to get rid of it!” John’s voice is low but intent. “Because when the Scarrens show, when the Peacekeepers – and they will. They’ll find your stargate and they’ll turn it into a weapon and then there will be another war.” He turns away abruptly. Cam watches as he gets a hold of himself, turning over names and politics that are so far outside of familiar that he wonders again just where he ended up.

“They need two stargates to make it work,” he says calmly. “If they can even figure out how without a DHD. Our stargate sat in a bunker for seventy years before it was figured out.”

“Won’t matter.” John looks back over his shoulder with haunted eyes. “They’ll go to war over having it, whether it works or not.”

“If they find it. You can’t condemn these people on that possibility.”

John laughs, harsh and cold. “Right, ‘cause the universe is going to let me get away with that. ‘John, it’s okay. I’ll let you discover another way to destroy the universe, but don’t worry, no one else will ever stumble over it.’ Because it’s not like this hasn’t happened before.”

Cam stares while John rants with his arms making wide crazy gestures. He’s twitchy, eyes darting everywhere before zeroing in on Cam and staying, and Cam feels the anger radiate off him like heat. He’s seen that expression on his own face staring back from the horror of war and thinking, what have I done.

“Sorry,” John drops his gaze and takes a deep breath that doesn’t quite quell the desperation beneath. “You just want to help.” But he doesn’t think Cam can.

“We’ll come up with something,” he says.

John laughs again, but this time he’s amused. “Optimists. I used to be an optimist.” He shakes his head, the anger bleeding away but the underlying edginess remains. It reminds Cam of Jackson and in that moment, he thinks, This could be me. If he stays. If he’s stuck here, alone, no backup, no team, no hope of rescue, only a new world with new rules and no way out.

They don’t speak of it again. John starts talking about random things. He asks Cam about the last three Superbowls, the draft and thinks Cam’s making up the Red Sox beating the Yankees.

His wife calls one more time and this time John steps off out of hearing but within sight to talk to her. An hour later it’s dark and they return to John’s ship. The food’s been delivered and Cam gets a look at the sizable cargo hold in the back.

The question’s on his mind, however, as they fly back to the stargate in silence. No one notices them land, and John’s out of his seat and pulling out a toolbox and cable from the back already asking questions about the power requirements and where to hook up the leads. He works with a single minded intensity that reminds Cam of Sam, warrior and engineer both.

Cam’s a soldier. He’s seen things he would wish on no one. He’s made tough calls.

“What were you before?” he asks.

“What?” John lifts his head for a second before going back to fiddling with the gate.

“Before you came here.”

It’s a long moment before John answers softly. “Innocent.”

They’re ready a few minutes later. John powers up his ship and helps Cam dial. The wormhole gushes to life. John doesn’t react like most people do seeing their first wormhole, instead his face is blank and his eyes are closed.

“What will you do?” Cam asks. “After I’m through.”

John opens his eyes but doesn’t look at him. “You know that guy they thought you were? The Destroyer of Worlds?” The name he hadn’t been able to understand before. John’s lips twist into a smile. “That’s me.”

So that’s it then, Cam thinks. He’s just going to give up on other options, be the Angel of Death that he’s become. “You –”

“Go. It’s going to close soon,” John interrupts, finally looking at Cam and giving him a shove toward the event horizon that sends him stumbling, one hand falling in before he stops himself. “Go.” Their eyes meet one final time, and Cam sees himself looking back. He waves and steps through.


End file.
